I've oft been offered but not tempted by
large helpings of pie in the sky
from too many crooks
who indeed the broth did spoil
and so as not to be sullied
by such greasy oil
I stay out of their kitchen
not because I can't stand the heat
but what's on their menu
ain't my cup of meat
apple or cherry by the slice
with a tasty pastry crust
is not a must but very nice
my absolute fave fit for a King
with taters on top of thee I sing
made with lamb
not beef that's cottage
and personal wish
as the name does imply
is a dainty dish
of homemade shepherd's pie
Some crooks are dumb as they come,
these thieves should get what they deserve
as they won't go so very far
now they're done taking a ride
in the stolen Police car...
with, 'To Protect & Serve
Dial 911,' printed on the side.
When the judge asked them, 'Why?'
and stressed, 'It's best if you confessed.'
The wiseguys both admitted,
while facing five to seven,
(have you guessed?)
'We thought it was a Porsche,
a Porsche 911.'
Exhausted played out past the point of no return
and yet while I have breath there's a will
and still the fire within shall burn
but what with all the crooks connivers
cheats con men shuckers and jivers
it's a wonder such a sensitive soul as I
is here now and how quite aliver
tho' neither nor big or small
nothing at all is made to last
as day by day we waste away
and it feels like I'm fading fast
when looking back before lights out
with but one life to spend
lived its span on my terms to the candle's bitter end
and I know when it's time to go all will be as it should
there'll be no regrets along the lines of
if only I'd done it when I could
Donald Trump’s on trial - the first of many.
It’s a cold feeling, being judged
- with your future held in the balance
(Ok, that sounded SO much like college life).
We all hope for greatness, I believe.
As kids, we see ourselves winning Wimbledon,
or standing on the gold medal podium at the olympics.
Donald Trump was a controversial president
I think that’s fair to say - some saw greatness,
others - not so much - but I think Mr. Trump
has what it takes to be a great prisoner.
First, he’ll eat practically anything
and he’s used to both paying for sex
and working with criminals.
I think he’ll have greatness thrust upon him.
.
.
songs for this:
Secrets (Your Fire) by Magdalena
POSE by MICHELLE
Hi-Fidelity by Lava La Rue
Leave it on the Dance Floor by Hope Tala
Villanelle: Crooks leaders and louts do they sing the same tune
Crooks leaders and louts do they sing the same tune
Does he who strums vocal chords show them the ropes
Whoever wields the baton sure calls the tune
The sergeant-major pulls rank when opportune
Though captains and majors aren’t exactly dopes
Crooks leaders and louts do they sing the same tune
To the Western ear the Eastern’s mono-tune
Do harps and harpsichords belong in same groups
Whoever wields the baton sure calls the tune
Do the Police join the band to play to tribune
Or just one or two here and there simply mopes
Crooks leaders and louts do they sing the same tune
Blame must fall if blame at all on top dog goon
The mess people in power make envelopes
Whoever wields the baton sure calls the tune
The blame for this world the way it has been sewn
Goes for whatever makes possible human dopes
Crooks leaders and louts do they sing the same tune
Whoever wields the baton sure calls the tune
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2015
Cold as crooks we walk the streets
Pickpocketing every snob we meet
We need the money so that we can eat
It's all the same, rinse and repeat
It's hard to meet the cost of living
When everyone takes and no one's giving
But what can I say, I'm lower than dirt...
But I'd rather suffer than see another one hurt
In the end money marks our lives
Those with cash will surely survive
But me? I know I've already been lost
I gave up my life, but at what cost?
I'd rather be hungry and freed
Than to be sinful with greed
And in the end I bleed...
In this life that I lead...
Led it straight to the end
Led it straight to this spot
Where all crooks can ammend
The mistakes that sent them to rot
Nobody helps, they just give us looks...
and here we die, cold as crooks
In this crooked chair i sit
at this crooked table
at this crooked desk
and write my crooked thoughts
looking out the crooked window
out onto the crooked crooked street
thinking about how crooked the world is
when suddleny is top and realise
the crooked people arent crooks
everything is crooked
crooked jails
crooked hospitlas
crooked business men lawyers and politiicians
crooked churches crooked steeples
crooked believers crooked people
it was perfect perfect and crooked
crookedly perfect
perfect people
perfect houses
perfect airplanes
and perfect yachts
perfect make me sick
keeping up with the joneses
perfect white teeth
perfect bodies
perfect hair
perfect health
thwey werent crooked?
were they?
croooked like me?
crooked like them crooked in a world full of rooked people and the crookedest
thing to do was to stand straight
and make a show of it!!
whose going to replace all of this crooked ness and turn this beautiful now?
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